Labyrinth Laboratories
by Ruya Firtina
Summary: In a troubled economy Sarah is desperate to shed her staggering student debt. When Jareth appears offering a way out-and an opportunity to learn more about the nature of dreams-Sarah has difficulty resisting. JS
1. Chapter 1

**Standard disclaimer: I do not own Jareth the Goblin King, Sarah Williams, or a labyrinth of any sort.**

**I'd like to thank my friend catnerdnick for his editing talents.**

**A/N: I accidentally recently saved over this chapter with another, and then had to re-post this first chapter. Whoops. On the plus side I am currently writing Chapter 2 finally!**

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><p>DaBest Staffing Services.<p>

Sarah cringed inwardly, looked away from the sign, steeled herself, and then pushed open the door. Really, when had it come to this? She had known that the pickings would be slim when she decided on a liberal arts degree seven years ago, but she hadn't thought that she would be forced to stoop to using an employment agency. She hadn't thought that her student debt would remain as daunting as ever four years after graduation. There were many things that she hadn't thought, or perhaps just didn't want to admit.

The employment agency seemed busy—there were actually people waiting in the claustrophobic entry room. Sarah eyed the handful of characters sitting quietly, reading magazines, texting. She took a breath and walked past to the counter at the far wall, addressing the woman seated behind.

"Good morning," Sarah smiled politely at the rather bored-looking woman. "I am looking to speak to someone about career options in the area. I have experience in copywriting, journalism, and customer service." She paused slightly before the last, as though she wished that she didn't have that experience.

"If you will please put your name down someone will be available shortly."

"Thank you." She took the pen and wrote out 'Sarah Williams' in clear, printed letters, then took an empty chair. Thankfully, the chair was not nearly as uncomfortable as it was ugly, though hopefully she wouldn't be waiting long.

Her gaze flicked over a few pamphlets stacked next to her, things with titles like: 'Laid Off? How to Land a New Job,' 'Thinking About Going Green?' and 'Do What You Are: Discover the Perfect Career for You Through the Secrets of Personality Type.' Sarah picked up a four-month old issue of National Geographic instead.

She was just starting an article on "The World's Fastest Birds" when the door opened and a draft came in, ruffling the pages a little. The morning light swung in through the opening , illuminating the room before retreating, leaving the same fluorescent lighting. Sarah glanced up from her magazine and did a double take as a tall person moved past her up to the counter. _Surely…but no…but that hair…who else-?_

And then she heard that voice, a voice she didn't quite believe she was hearing, a voice with distinctly British overtones that brought her back to years and years ago, to a dark night when she was just a foolish, foolish girl who made goblin wishes.

"Hello," that voice said blithely, as the man leaned easily up against the counter towards the receptionist who quickly lost her bored appearance. "My name is Jareth. I believe I have an appointment to speak with someone about career options. Not local."

_Okay, okay_, Sarah told herself, trying not to flinch or shake or make any sudden movements that might get the magic king's attention. _Just keep calm. He hasn't seen you yet. You can still just up and get out of here before he sees you, go home, and decide what to do._

"Please write your name on the list and someone will be with you shortly," the receptionist said with a smile after confirming his appointment.

_Oh…wait a minute._ Sarah watched, frozen as his fingers reached for the same pen that she had been holding moments before, his other hand casually brushing unruly strands of blond hair from in front of his eyes. He signed his name on the list, and then paused, still looking at it. The slender form of his back stiffened, and Sarah could pick out her individual heartbeats. She felt a need to make a bolt for the door, but could only watch him turn to face her, not searching the room but finding her immediately, as if he knew where she would be already.

His eyes met hers and the recognition was instantly there—It was HIM alright, Jareth the Goblin King, here in this seedy employment center in this seedy part of Washington, D.C. _But what…?_

Before she had time to complete the thought he was across the room and sitting in the chair immediately across from hers.

Sarah flopped the magazine down into her lap and met his gaze. She narrowed her eyes. "What. Are. You. Doing here?" she spoke in low tones.

Jareth pulled his head back and widened his eyes in a gesture of complete innocence. He pointed to his own chest. The grey dress shirt he wore under his black coat appeared to be open down to _at least_ the fourth button . "Me? I should think that would be obvious. I am looking into alternative means of employment." His tone took on one of mock hurt, "And hello to you too, Sarah. How are _you_ doing? It has certainly been a while."

"I am doing fine-" replied Sarah pointedly and quietly. "And I want you to know that I don't believe you for a minute, _Jareth_. Why are you here?"

"So untrustworthy," Jareth raised an eyebrow. "I will have you know that I am quite serious. My thousand-year contract with the Labyrinth is coming to a close this year, so I am seeking out other positions."

"In Washington, D.C.?" Sarah asked incredulously. "What kind of position are you looking for, bureaucratic assistant?" Sarah was struck suddenly with how _fantastical_ this whole situation was, sitting here in bright orange, molded-plastic chairs in an unemployment center in a seedy strip mall, chatting with a magical creature who nine years ago challenged her to run his mythical Labyrinth in a faraway land called the Underground. She had beaten him at his game and won back her baby brother, but after many years of growing up, the dull routine of the mundane world, school, and crap jobs she eventually decided that the whole experience was nothing more than the elaborate product of an overactive imagination coupled with a healthy dose of teenage angst.

"You misunderstand." Jareth brought her back from her reverie by shaking his head. "This unemployment center—DaBest Staffing—it stands on a rift, a rift between dimensions. It is one of a few places where you can find positions _world's away._"

"Oh, come on! You honestly expect me to believe that DaBest Staffing services…intergalactic bounty hunters and whatnot?"

"That among many, many other things. And where are your lessons from my Labyrinth? 'Things are not always what they seem.'" He winked at her, nudging his head to the right. A gentleman sporting a large hat and sunglasses and reading a copy of the _New York Times_ definitely had a small purple tentacle curling out of his coat sleeve. Sarah blinked and looked back at Jareth who coughed distinctly. Sarah felt a trifle ill at ease with this revelation.

"Wait…what were you saying about looking for other positions?"

"Yes," Jareth sighed melodramatically, casually running his (gloved) fingers through his hair. "You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to find a position for someone of my talents: Planeswalking, shapeshifting, child abduction, seduction of young women…"

"You didn't seriously put…all _that_ in your resume, did you?" Sarah asked, blanching.

"But of course," Jareth blinked. "Through the many years I've learned the importance of fulfilling and exercising one's unique skill set to its greatest potential."

"What did you mean when you said that your contract with the Labyrinth was almost over?" Sarah asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Exactly what I said," replied Jareth obligingly. "My position is contractual. Every thousand years we review and look over our options. I decide if I want to remain and the Labyrinth decides if it wants to renew my contract."

"The _Labyrinth_ decides? I don't follow you."

"Hm. Well, I might as well tell you: I am not exactly _King_ of the Labyrinth, for the Labyrinth is really it's own autonomous, decision-making entity. Truly, it governs itself. It chooses a king, of sorts, as a sort of spokesperson, a PR person, for lack of a better term. Of course, there are numerous other responsibilities as well…"

Sarah cut him off. "Wait. You are telling me that your job—stealing babies, flying around at night, cavorting with goblins, HARASSING young girls—is Public Relations?" This was the most absurd conversation she'd ever had in her life.

"Well," replied Jareth, flashing a wolfish grin, "I definitely do steal away many of the public's relations."

Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "Oh my god. I can't believe that I am here, listening to you make bad puns." She looked back at the lounging golden-haired king as a thought occurred to her. "Wait…so you're not going to be King of Goblins any longer then, if you're looking for a new job?" This was so surreal.

"Well—no. I am just trying to gain a little leverage, maybe try to get the Labyrinth to bring something new to the table."

"What more could you want? You're already King!"

"You echo the Labyrinth's sentiment." Jareth idly scratched his chin then shrugged. "I've started to feel that the title 'King' is a little too blasé. I want to go by 'Jareth, Lord Ruler of Goblins.' It has so much more pizzazz."

"I…see." Sarah found herself wondering if the Goblin…err, Lord Ruler wasn't just a little bit crazier than she had already believed.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jareth the Goblin King," the receptionist called. Nobody else in the waiting room bothered to look up at the unusual title.

"That's my cue." He flashed Sarah a jaunty wink and grin before standing to his full height, his grey coat falling into place over the straight, clean lines of his trousers. He looked into her eyes. "I'll see you soon." A promise, it sounded like. He breezed past the receptionist, through a doorway, turned a corner, and was suddenly out of sight.

Sarah blinked in confusion. Dazedly, Sarah found herself thinking how unfair it was that his name was called first even though _she_ had gotten there before him. _Wait a moment—he can't just do that. He can't just get up and leave like that, can he? _ Now with Jareth gone from the room the bland reality of the world slammed back into place, as if someone had shut the curtains on the rainstorm outside. She stared emptily at the chair where the Goblin King had until recently been sitting and realized just what had happened. When talking to Jareth it had seemed almost dreamlike, a dazed conversation, but now she gripped her seat tightly, and her pupils expanded and she began to tremble slightly as it truly dawned on her. _The Goblin King is real. The Goblin King who had stolen Toby so many years ago. I can't just let him get away. To hell with 'I'll see you soon'—This conversation isn't over, damn it!_

She stood up with a lurch. The world tilted dizzily. She hesitated for a brief minute then went for the door that the Goblin King had disappeared behind_._ The bored lady at the desk took off her headphones and glanced over in disapproval. "Ma'am, you can't…!" Sarah ignored her and darted around the corner Jareth had disappeared around.

Nothing. It ended in a dead end with a dusty, fake tree that rivaled the ugliness of the orange plastic chairs in the waiting room. Sarah stalled in bewilderment. A hand closed on her elbow and she jumped. "Ma'am, please take your seat in the waiting room and wait your turn," said the woman from the desk in a tone that suggested annoyance and a low tolerance to nonsense. _When did I become 'Ma'am'? I don't think I like to be 'Ma'am'. _And Sarah let herself be led back to her still-warm orange molded seat, wondering if she was crazy.

The meeting with the employment advisor was exceedingly disappointing, enough so to arouse her out of her collision with the past-induced stupor. No, there were not currently any entry level positions available in any publishing firms, no editors assistants needed anywhere, not even an English tutoring position available. Nothing but these damned advertising positions. Honestly, why had this fad become so recently popular?

"You have got to be kidding me."

"M'am, this looks like your best option for now, though I am sure something else will open up in a few weeks if you want to come back later."

Sarah could not-at the moment-afford to come back later, so she gritted her teeth as she filled out the appropriate paperwork. _I need a job, damn it. At this point anything just to keep me afloat._ And who knew? Maybe she would make some sort of fantastic connection with some publisher who passing by on the road. And look, the smoothie store was only five blocks to her apartment. She could totally walk there!

Sarah's attempts to buoy her spirits did little to ease the sting of the fact that she was overeducated for this position, that it was a dead-beat nothing of a job with no correlation at all with her interests. She was supposed to _be somebody_, not some bum on the street. _This is only temporary. This is not who I am._

When Sarah left the advisor's office she was half expecting to find Jareth lounging in one of the waiting room chairs, waiting for her. He was nowhere in sight, however. She stopped at the counter on a pretense to ask a quick question of the woman, while covertly examining the sign in clipboard. There was no signature following her name. She was the last person signed in, even though she distinctly remembered seeing the Goblin King write something on the board. Stamping down on the odd flicker of emotion that _was not_ disappointment, Sarah squared her shoulders and walked out of DaBest Staffing into the dwindling afternoon, wending her way back to her apartment.

One week and one exchange of emails later found Sarah standing on the intersection of two busy roads in front of a no-name shopping plaza. It was the sort of scene that could have been duplicated in any other corner of urban, American sprawl: the heat of the parking lot, the busy ruckus of vehicles moving through the intersection in front of her, the poor young woman awkwardly holding a colorful sign for Smoothie Express while wearing a bright yellow banana suit.

Sarah was drenched with sweat inside the suit, her hair plastered to her neck. The day was hot, and standing in the direct sunlight did not help at all. She felt exposed on the road, as if she were an ant on a mirror. The passing cars had an alien feel to them, so noisy and loud as they zoomed past, the faces of their occupants flashing past in detached instants of apathy to their surroundings. _If someone from another world with no concept of automobiles was standing here,_ she thought to herself, squinting against the glare, _They would be terrified by these cars. They would think that they were demons, cruel and uncaring metallic beasts with no regard for human existence._

Traffic moved on. The sun shone down. Sarah lifted her wrist and glanced at her watch—a quarter past one. _Brilliant_. She had been out here for fifteen minutes and she was already wishing she could get out of this ridiculous suit and go back home to her apartment. More and more this shift was looking like it would be the longest four hours of her life.


End file.
